


Aftermath

by ams75



Series: Rip Hunter, Post Cognitive Intrusion [2]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Gen, Pre-TimeCanary if you squint, RipFic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-10-08 19:21:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10394313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ams75/pseuds/ams75
Summary: After a mission goes wrong, Rip Hunter has a couple of conversations.





	

**Author's Note:**

> One-shot, can be read on its own.

Rip Hunter strode angrily through _The Waverider_ , angry at Sara (Captain Lance! his inner voice mocked him) Lance, and at himself for not being able to be in two places at once.  
  
“Rip!” He could hear the insistence in Miss Lance’s voice.  “We need to talk!”  
  
Rip rounded  on her and shot a withering glare.  “No, Miss Lance, we do _not_ need to talk, I know precisely what happened and what went wrong out there!” His attention was diverted by the approach of the pyro he had recruited to the team.  Well, the pyro he had brought along because he had needed the talented thief.  “Mr. Rory,” he said, cutting across whatever Sara had been about to say, “would you care for a drink?”  
  
“You’re asking me if I want a drink?” Mick said.  It should be obvious to anyone on the ship that the answer was yes but, in Mick’s opinion, their former captain wasn’t always the sharpest knife in the drawer.  
  
“I have a rather special one for you.  Shall we?” Rip could see the frustration in Sara’s eyes but at the moment, he didn’t care.  
  
Mick looked at Rip, then Sara.  “Sorry, Blondie.”  To Rip, “Lead the way,” he said.  
  
Rip felt her gaze burning a hole between his shoulder blades as he led Mr. Rory to his parlour.  Once inside, he closed and locked the door (‘That won’t stop her if she wants to enter,’ his inner voice said as he resolutely ignored it).  “Do sit down,” he said, as he headed towards the bottle of soda water.  
  
“I thought we were drinking?” Mick asked, suspicious.  Soda water never led to anything interesting, in his experience.  
  
“Indeed we are, Mr. Rory,” Rip said, as he filled two glasses, then handed one to his guest.  He sat down on the nearest chair.  “I heard from Mr. Jackson you missed out on one of the treats of the Prohibition Era.”  
  
“And that is?  
  
“Moonshine.”  Rip tilted his glass slightly in Mr. Rory’s direction.  
  
Mick sat down on a chair and faced Rip.  “How long have you had this?” he asked, before chugging.  
  
“A few trips I’d made, before recruiting you.  When I knew I’d have company, I poured it into that bottle.  I suspected it would never be touched,” he said, possibly a touch smugly.  “I was right.”  
  
Rip noticed his guest's glass was empty, leaned over and grabbed the bottle and waved it at Mick, who offered his glass.  Rip refilled it, then placed the bottle on the table again.  He raised his own glass to his lips, then lowered it without drinking.  "I must thank you for helping to save me.  I heard you and Professor Stein oversaw Jax and Sara's trip into my mind."  
  
"Consider us even," Mick said, visibly uncomfortable.  "Dirty trick you pulled, stunning me."  
  
"To save your life."  Rip countered hotly.  
  
"I know.  That's why you're still alive.  Don't turn evil on us, and we won't have a problem."  
  
Rip almost started to retort, but before the stream of words, of excuses, of justifications could break free, he raised his glass, clinked it firmly against Mr. Rory's, then determinedly swallowed the fiery liquid in one go.  
  
His throat caught fire, his eyes watered so much that tears ran down his face in streams, and liquid magma seared his lungs,  The destruction of his internal organs continued as the firewater burned its way through his digestive system, then smouldered in his stomach like white-hot coal.  
  
Mick Rory chuckled, not entirely unkindly.  "Packs a helluva kick."  
  
It took seven tries before Rip could croak out a response.  "Indeed."  
  
*******  
  
Rip walked slowly to the empty area of the ship, where Sara had trained Kendra to control her inner Goddess.  As he had thought, she was holding the bo staff and slowly, methodically performed lunges, thrusts, feints and what might be death blows against an invisible opponent.  He stood well behind her, admiring her gracefulness along with the sheer lethal precision of her moves.  He cleared his throat.  
  
Even faster than he expected, the bo staff came at his throat, stopping an inch from his skin.  “Excellent self control,” he said with a murmur, “Miss... Captain Lance.”  
  
She stepped back slightly and lowered the weapon, allowing one end to rest on the floor.  
  
When she didn’t speak, he asked, “How is Mr. Palmer?”  
  
“Gideon’s healed him.”  
  
“Good.”  He shifted his weight slightly.  “May we talk?”

  
“Are you going to run away again?”  
  
(You deserve that, his inner voice said).  “No.”  
  
“All right then.  Where?”  
  
“My parlour?”  
  
She nodded slightly, walked over to the case she kept her bo staff in and sheathed it in the canvas and secured it in place on the wall.  “Lead the way.”  
  
They walked silently through the ship, encountering no-one.  Once they reached the bridge, he ushered her in and closed the door behind them.  He picked up the decanter with water and looked at her, then poured them both drinks and handed her a glass, before he sat down near his own.  “You want to know why I went off-comm,” he said, rather than asked.  
  
She nodded.  She hadn’t touched her drink, having also placed it near her.  
  
“As I was working my way towards Dr. Palmer, I discovered a particularly nasty little bomb from the 2060s.”  
  
“And you didn’t think to tell me?” she asked evenly.  
  
“I knew you’d find out soon enough, either because of the blast, or because I wouldn’t be where you expected.  I cut the comm because although I’ve seen some schematics of them, I had never actually defused one of them before.”  He dropped his eyes to look at his hands although he could still feel the intensity of her gaze.  “It wasn’t a death wish, if that’s what you’re thinking.  Had it gone off, nothing would have remained standing in the radius of a kilometre.  A gaping hole would have been all that was left.  I needed to concentrate on what I was doing.”  
  
“If you told me...”  
  
He cut her off.  “By the time anyone would have reached me, it would have been over, one way or the other.  Best not to let their worry interfere with what had to be done.”  He picked up his glass and drank deeply, wishing it had been whisky instead.  “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to provide cover for Mr. Palmer.”  
  
“If you had told me, maybe I could have moved Mick or Firestorm in closer to Ray.”  
  
“Possibly.  But if either had been free to do so, I imagine they would have done so, even without orders.”  
  
She changed the subject slightly.  “What’s going on with you? You seem more... pensive than usual.”

  
“I’ve been pondering how to better secure the ship, and Gideon.”  
  
“You’re not going to do anything rash, are you?”  
  
“Such as?  
  
“Such as leave us again,” she said bluntly.  “That’s not a solution, Rip.”  
  
“Why not?”  
  
“We’re better together.  You make us better together.”  
  
He laughed slightly, caught between bitterness and amusement.  “If only that were true.”  
  
“It is true, Rip.  Look at me:  I was a vigilante when you met me, and I couldn’t control my bloodlust.  You tricked us, sure, to join you on your mission, but you also believed in me what I didn’t, couldn’t.  You looked after us in your own infuriating way.”  
  
“Infuriating, is it?”  
  
“Yeah.”  She grinned and it took the sting out of the confirmation.  “We’ve missed you and we need you, maybe not in the way you expected.”  
  
He held her gaze.  “As I’ve missed you... all of you.”  
  
“Now, speaking as your Captain, before you decide to turn off your comm again, at least give me a heads up as to why.  Maybe something can be done you’re not aware of.  You’re not alone any longer, we have each others’ backs.”  
  
“I’ll keep that in mind.”  
  
“Do that.”  She downed her water.  “Now, where’s the good stuff?”  
  
 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading my short story and feel free to let me know if there are any typos and if you'd like to read more.


End file.
